


to forget the din of the world

by HuiLian



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: DamianLovesHisGrandpa2020, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Tea, YeetDC2020, drinking tea to bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26011285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuiLian/pseuds/HuiLian
Summary: Alfred opens his mouth to protest, because he does not want to see that cat more often than he already has, but he sees the hopeful expression on Damian’s face, and closes his mouth again.He could put up with the cat if it meant seeing more of Damian with his pets, because Alfred finds that Damian is so much more honest about himself if any of his pets are in attendance. And he wants to see his grandson- because that is what Damian is to him- without the guarded behaviour that Damian acquired from the League.Because he will see more of Master Damian if the cat continues to disturb him. Encountering the cat means also encountering his master.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Damian Wayne, Alfred the Cat & Alfred Pennyworth, Alfred the Cat & Damian Wayne
Comments: 16
Kudos: 106
Collections: Damian Loves His Grandpa Challenge 2020





	to forget the din of the world

**Author's Note:**

> nooooo, they won't know that you use food to show affection lian, I say, as I write my umpteenth fic about bonding through food.   
> This is for the Damian Loves His Grandpa 2020 challenge, that is the brainchild of the amazing [ Gem ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini_Baby). Enjoy the fluff!
> 
> disclaimer: i do not own a cat, so the antics alfred the cat do that you see here is mostly based on stories by my friends who do own cats.

Alfred looks at the cat. The cat looks back. 

Alfred already has a loaf in the oven and is preparing to do the second rise for this one. He has planned it to the minute, so that the moment he takes the first loaf out of the oven, the second will be ready to go in. But the cat, that damned cat whom Alfred refuses to call by its name, is sitting, just as you please, inside Alfred's pan. And it refuses to leave. 

The clock ticks. Neither of them gives in. 

Finally, Alfred says, _to the cat,_ "Please leave your current premises immediately. Otherwise, I will have to use force to remove you."

The cat meows. 

Alfred seethes. He does not particularly like moving that cat by force, _anywhere_ , because that cat _scratches_ , but he will do it to free his pan.

Before Alfred can move to lift the cat, however, a voice calls out, “Alfred!”

Alfred turns towards the kitchen door, confused, because in all the years Master Damian has been in his care, never has he called Alfred by his first name.

Master Damian, however, pays no heed to Alfred’s confusion. He walks towards the kitchen counter where Alfred and _that cat_ are having their stare down, and simply plucks the cat from the pan. Of course, when Master Damian is the one who lifts it up, the cat has no objections whatsoever. 

And it is then that realization dawns. Master Damian was speaking to the cat. 

Alfred resists the urge to sigh. Of course Master Damian was speaking to the cat. 

Master Damian rests the cat on his arms and it lounges perfectly content there. Alfred tries not to visibly show his annoyance.

Master Damian then says, “Apologies, Pennyworth. I am sure he did not mean to interrupt you. I will take better care of him in the future.”

Alfred gives in to the urge to sigh. He nods, then quickly retrieves the pan from the counter, lest _that cat_ decides to leave Master Damian’s arms and reclaim the pan. He washes the pan, thoroughly, and dries it, all while listening to Master Damian having a conversation with the cat about the importance of hygiene and asking permission to use others’ belongings. 

Alfred is pretty sure he heard that same speech being given to Damian, a couple of years ago, by Master Dick. The part of the speech about asking for permission, of course. There is nothing wrong with Master Damian’s hygiene. Except for the general teenage boys’ tendencies that Alfred has been dealing with for _decades_ now.

Alfred re-kneads the dough a bit, because it has been left out for far too long, then forms the loaf and puts it in the pan. He turns around, expecting Damian and the cat to be long gone, but instead, he finds the two of them in front of him. 

“Is something the matter, Master Damian?” Alfred asks. 

Damian doesn’t answer. Alfred waits. He won the stare down with the cat, he will win this one too. 

After a while, Damian swallows, then says, “Alfred wants to spend more time with his namesake, Pennyworth. I have reprimanded him about using your belongings, but I’m afraid you will often encounter him in the future.”

Alfred opens his mouth to protest, because he _does not want_ to see that cat more often than he already has, but he sees the hopeful expression on Damian’s face, and closes his mouth again.

He could put up with the cat if it meant seeing more of Damian with his pets, because Alfred finds that Damian is so much more honest about himself if any of his pets are in attendance. And he wants to see his grandson- because that is what Damian is to him- without the guarded behaviour that Damian acquired from the League.

Because he _will_ see more of Master Damian if the cat continues to disturb him. Encountering the cat means also encountering his master. 

Alfred sighs. He has learnt, years and years ago, to never reject any time with his charges. In their line of work, any time Alfred spends with them can very well be the last. He has learnt that, a long time ago, and was recently reminded, _harshly_ , with Damian. 

He will put up with the cat. 

“Very well, Master Damian. Would he”-not Damian, never Damian. The boy will reject it promptly-” like to start now? I am about to brew a pot of tea. The two of you are welcome to join.”

Damian tilts his head down, for all appearance conferring with _that cat_. He talks to it for a while, taking the cat’s meows to be actual words, then he looks back up towards Alfred. “We accept.”

Alfred squashes down a smile at the sight, knowing it won’t be received well by the boy. Instead, he nods, then walks over to the cupboard. 

“What tea would you like, Master Damian? I have your usual chai. I also have green tea, jasmine tea, Master Jason’s herbal tea, pu-erh tea, my usual Earl Grey, and this absolute travesty that is instant tea, though I am assuming you would not want that.”

“Tt,” Damian says, “of course I would not want the instant tea, Pennyworth. May I have the pu-erh?”

“Not your usual chai, Master Damian?”

“I desire something different today, Pennyworth.”

“Of course,” Alfred says, bringing the pu-erh and his Earl Grey. He gives Damian the pu-erh package and his pot, and leaves to retrieve his own pot. From the corner of his eye, Alfred sees Damian deposit the cat on the kitchen chairs to boil the water for their tea. 

That cat doesn’t even give a huff of protest. If _Alfred_ tries to do that, his arms would be bleeding already. 

Why can’t that cat behave better? Titus is perfectly well behaved, so is Batcow. Even Goliath, the absolute beast that he is, is better behaved than _that cat_. 

Alfred walks to the kitchen table, a pot in one hand, with the tea bags already inside, and his usual tray for milk and sugar for the tea. He watches Damian precisely measure his tea leaves, as precise as if his life depended on it. 

The kettle, because Alfred will be dead before anyone in the Manor boils water for their tea in a _microwave_ , sings, and so Alfred moves to take it. To do so, he has to pass _the cat_. 

Alfred gives the cat a look. The cat does not look back. It closes its eyes and continues lounging on the kitchen chair. Alfred doesn’t know if that is better than the cat returning his stare, or _worse_.

The kettle sings. Alfred abandons the infuriating cat and goes to turn off the stove. He brings the kettle towards the table, refusing to even _look_ at the cat lounging on the chair. Two can play this game.

Damian takes the kettle from him as soon as he finishes measuring his leaves. That boy is more precise in measuring his tea leaves than some men are in defusing a bomb. 

Damian pours the water from the kettle, to Alfred’s pot first, since he doubtlessly has calculated that Alfred likes his Earl Grey to steep for longer than Damian likes to steep his pu-erh, then pours his own pot. While they wait for the tea to steep, Damian walks towards the kitchen chair, retrieves the cat, and returns to the table. 

The cat looks smug. Alfred refrains from having an argument with a cat. 

When his tea is ready, Alfred pours the tea from the pot to his cup, to a very precise level inside his cup, and adds milk and sugar, the amount of which has not changed in the past forty-odd years. Damian pours his tea too, as meticulous as Alfred, but since he does not have milk and sugar to pour in, he finishes first. 

Damian does not sip his tea until Alfred has done so. Alfred knows what that means, and is secretly touched by the gesture.

Alfred sips for longer, though. He needs the tea to calm himself after dealing with _that cat_ for an extended period of time. 

When he puts down his cup, he sees that Damian is looking at him oddly. The cat, now perched on Damian’s lap, is also looking at him, but its look is that of disdain. 

“Is something the matter, Master Damian?”

Damian stays silent for a while, visibly debating whether he should speak or not, but eventually, he says, “How can you like that tea, Pennyworth?”

“The Earl Grey?”

Damian nods. 

“It’s an acquired taste, I suppose, Master Damian.” Alfred sips at his tea again. When he finishes, he looks at Damian’s face, and feels a sudden pang of affection. “Would you like to know a secret?” he asks. 

Damian nods immediately. “Yes.”

Alfred allows himself a smile. He can’t help it. “This tea is not my favourite.”

A clatter. Damian has put down his cup far too roughly for such a fine piece of china. The cat meows in protest. “But you drink it every day!” he says.

Alfred hums. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

“If you do not like it, then why do you drink that vile tea every day, Pennyworth?”

“I did not say I do not like it, Master Damian. I merely said that it is not my favourite.”

Damian huffs. “Semantics.”

Alfred tilts his head. He wants to dangle it in front of the boy, wants to keep it to himself, but he doesn’t have the heart to do it. Behind Damian’s aloofness is genuine interest. If he is not truly interested he wouldn’t have masked it so. 

Alfred relents. “It is the easiest to find here, in the states. It is hardly prudent for me to go searching for tea, especially when one needs to take care of several vigilantes in one’s household.”

“Which one, then, is your favourite, Pennyworth?”

Alfred bristles, not wanting to answer this very personal question to his past, but also knowing that he’s led himself into it. Finally, he decides to answer it truthfully. “Taylor’s Yorkshire Red.”

Damian hums. He nods, then strokes his cat. 

No conversation from the boy. Alfred also doesn’t offer any. Like his father, the boy is perfectly comfortable in silence. They don’t talk again until Alfred leaves to take out the bread and put in the second loaf. By then, they both have finished their respective pot of tea. 

“Thank you for the tea, Pennyworth,” Damian says, standing up. He nods at Alfred, then leaves, bringing the cat with him, thank Heavens. 

Alfred puts the newly baked loaf on the cooling rack, then tidies up the pots and cups they have used for tea. 

He doesn’t think of that conversation until several days later, when six boxes of Taylor’s Yorkshire Red tea appears on his bed. Alfred smiles. The tea alone is worth dealing with the cat, never mind the company it brings with it, even if that infernal cat still lounges on Alfred’s pans from time to time.

**Author's Note:**

> why does damian drink the pu-erh? because i was drinking pu-erh tea as I was writing this and wanted to put it in.   
> yes, i am aware that Yorkshire red is probably not that hard to find in the US, because it's in amazon, but bear with me. I am tired and don't want to spend hours researching obscure english tea.   
> not drinking tea before your elders, or people you respected, drink is something that Chinese people do. My interpretation of Talia is that she's at least part Chinese from her mother, and so I'm assuming that damian got that too. it's just a way of showing respect, and showing that damian does respect alfred as his grandfather. 
> 
> check out my tumblr [ here ](https://huilian.tumblr.com/) (huilian.tumblr.com)  
> kudos and comments are always, always appreciated!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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